


I Told You To Leave

by ilovelocust



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Oviposition, Shiro Does Not Die, Tentacles, Violent Non-con, tentacle monster Keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 08:36:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19269628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilovelocust/pseuds/ilovelocust
Summary: Shiro trusts Keith.  He's his best friend, and no matter what others think, monster or not.  Keith would never hurt him.It's a shame he doesn't trust Keith when he tells him to leave.





	I Told You To Leave

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea, that I really like the concept of Shiro getting into deep trouble because he trusts that Ketih would never hurt him too much.
> 
>  
> 
> Shiro doesn't die in this fic.

Shiro was the first stranger Keith that met who’s initial reaction was to say hello instead of reaching for the closest sharp object, and Keith has never forgotten that. Sure there have been countless other acts of kindness shared between them since, but that is the action that created the foundation of their friendship. It’s why Shiro knows, if he ever decides to siege hell, Keith will be right beside him, tearing apart any stupid enough to challenge them.

Shiro trusts Keith with his life, completely and utterly, and no matter what some townsfolk may imply, he’s saved Shiro's life enough times to more than prove he's not secretly waiting until he can munch Shiro in his sleep. See Keith isn’t entirely human. More half of one, from the waste up at least. Maybe a little sharp of tooth but human. From the waste down, though, he's a tentacled monster...thing. Some are thin, some are thick, some are slimy, and some Shiro's seen snap a man's spine as easy as pile of twigs, but all part and parcel of Keith.

Most choose to see Keith for the inhuman in him, the monstrous appendages, but Shiro has chosen to see the person, the human in need. For that he has gained his best friend.

-

They’ve been in the area a couple days, taking a little time to rest, when Keith leaves their little camp to go find game one pre-dawn morning and doesn't come back. Keith had been off the past week. He’d insisted he was fine and his healthy appetite had convinced Shiro that he couldn't be in too terrible of shape, but now, he's kicking himself. He should have pressed mored for what was wrong or offered to go with him. Being distracted on a hunt is deadly. Even someone as strong as Keith could get gored by a lucky antler and bleed out. He’d been so stupid.

It’s later in the day than he’d like when he sets off into the woods after his lost friend. His only saving grace is that Keith is big. He can be deadly quite and squeeze into impossible small areas when he wants to, but he can rarely move about without leaving a trail. That much mass south of his naval simply can't pass through a forest without leaving at least some easily spotted clue for an experienced tracker like Shiro to pick up.

Shiro finds the signs of the fight, first. A trampled bush, broken branches, and gouged lines in the dirt where something large had been dragged in the opposite direction of camp, obviously still struggling. The lack of blood is simultaneously a relief, Keith's not dead, and ice in his chest. Very few things without intelligence are capable of subduing Keith without spraying some blood on the local fauna. Whatever has happened to Keith, it is nothing as simple and straightforward as a hunt gone wrong.

Shiro follows the upturned dirt and broken branches. Preparing himself for the myriad of enemies he could find and how to fight them. He knows he’s there, when he finds the cave. The cave does not seem to have a permanent resident of any size, at least not in a while, but something big has clearly been through recently. Shiro draws his weapon, readying to enter, when he hears the snarling yell of rage from inside. He’s running before it peters out. He knows that voice. Keith is alive and needs help now.

He's prepared for combat. Prepared for hunters with nets or mountain ogres stocking up for the winter. He's prepared to swoop in and save his friend in one more step in their eternal dance of kidnapped and rescued, switch roles and begin again. He's not prepared to round a corner and find Keith alone.

No, no wait, not quite alone. There's a buck, big enough to feed five for a month, broken below Keith. It's alive, technically, but clearly won't be for long. Twisted back limbs and frothing mouth. It won't make the hour, if it makes the next five minutes. Death would be a mercy for the poor creature.

Keith isn't cruel. Despite what people assume due to his appearance, he's not a monster. He doesn't torture for fun, and his idea of revenge is to kill his enemy quick before they can take anything else from him. He wouldn't let even an animal suffer like this without a reason. There must be someone else here.

They’re in a smallish cavern, illuminated by thin streams of daylight from holes up high. As Shiro steps in, sword raised, all it takes is one turn to see every hiding place along its smooth unbroken walls. A small spring fed pool, deep enough to bathe if you sit but not enough to hide an aquatic menace. The entrance he came from and…Keith. There is nothing else. They are alone.

"Shiro?" Keith says, his eyes wide. A wet snap-crunch and the deer below him convulses before going still. Shiro's doesn't need to look closer to know one of Keith's larger tentacles has constricted and finally ended the animal's misery.

If they didn't know each other so well, the show of strength would be terrifying. As it is, Shiro has only one thing on his mind, "Keith are you okay?" Shiro shoves his sword into its scabbard. Freeing both hands to check on his friend.

There is a small streak of blood on Keith’s chest, matching one shiny red antler atop the deers head, but as Shiro reaches out, Keith flinches back. Keith snarls, actually snarls, teeth bared at him. Shiro’s momentarily at a loss, "You can't be here." Keith hisses, withdrawing deeper into the cavern. His tentacles rise in defense between them, as if Shiro's still had his sword drawn.

Shiro casts his eyes around for what could be causing Keith's distress, but still no enemy materializes for him to fight. None to threaten Keith or himself, "Keith, what's wrong?” Shiro asks. Keith's tentacles flail in agitation. Teeth still flashing in the low light, but eyes large in fear. Shiro knows that look, has seen it before. When the mob was at the door and neither thought they’d make it out alive.

"Talk to me," Shiro says softly, raising both his hand placating, before taking a slow step forward. "Go away!" Keith shouts, "You need to go!" and throws a rock at him...well, three feet to the left of him. Keith would sooner bite off one of his own fingers than hurt Shiro.

Shiro startles, but after a second to get over the surprise, that knowledge is what has Shiro stepping forward again, when all normal people would turn around and flee. It's bravado, false danger, to get Shiro to leave, when Keith clearly needs help. It’s something he’s done before, though not quite so violently, when he’s decided Shiro would be better off without him, and tried to drive him off. Sometimes Keith forgets he’s not on his own anymore. That there are two of them on this journey, and Shiro could never, would never, leave him to face this or any other danger alone.

Keith's made a barrier between them with his tentacles raised high, but he seems rooted to the floor, unable or unwilling to flee further. Shiro grasps the first tentacle and it moves for him with the barest of pressure. As Shiro thought. Keith is the stronger of the two of them. Shiro could not move him, if Keith did not wish to be moved. Keith does not truly wish to be alone. A pained whine slips from Keith’s lips, as Shiro pushes the next aside, "Shiro, go," Keith whimpers.

"Why?" Shiro lets his concern fill his voice, "Keith, you can trust me. Just tell me what's going on and I can help."

Keith must believe him, as the tentacles stop trying to keep Shiro out and start pulling him. Keith shudders as Shiro's hand cups his cheek, “Sh-should go..dangerous,” Keith’s voice is unsteady. Something is wrong, but he goes willingly when Shiro pulls him into an embrace, his human arms folded between them.

Keith’s always weighted actions more than words, a hand to the shoulder does more to assure him he’s not alone than a speech ever could, but that doesn’t mean words can’t help, “Whatever is going on, whatever is wrong, I’m here for you.” Shiro says, and he means it truly.

Keith gasps, leaning forward to press his forehead into Shiro shirt, "I need, I need..." Keith's shaking, his hands are shaking as they drag down Shiro's chest, down his ribs, then lower still, "I need....help." There is nothing innocent about were Keith's hand stops. Keith raises his head, and as his eyes open, Shiro can see the deep black of his pupil have swallowed his irises.

Shiro nearly chokes on his tongue, “Keith?” He squeaks. He must have misheard, this is something that happens in dreams that send him to wash clothes a week early, not reality. 

Keith, though, seems to have refound his strength. He squeezes through the too thin cloth of Shiro's pants, cupping Shiro’s cock without subtly, "I need help." Keith repeats steadier, and there is no doubt in what he’s referring to.

"Please," Keith pushes forward. Shiro finds his feet are no longer touching the ground, Keith’s many appendages easily supporting his weight, "Please," Keith repeats, beseeching. 

He’s unprepared, doesn’t know how to answer that, until Keith whines, and then he knows. He asked, if this is the answer then, "Okay, okay," Shiro pets through Keith's hair, trying to calm him, "Whatever you need. I'll help."

Keith hits him like a tidal wave. A tongue pushes its way past his lips without finesse, as he's swept up and horizontal away from the cold stone floor. Keith is everywhere. Human hands digging into his hair, as his tentacle wrap and unwrap, around his limbs, his torso, under his shirt, and down his pants. Pawing, touching, feeling, every bare inch of Shiro he can get at. Shiro cringes as he hears the pop of seams. Unsure if Keith too impatient to pull his clothes off properly, or simply tried to fit too much of himself for them to accommodate.

Either way, the results certainly feel good. With free access granted, Keith touches with abandon. Shiro's cock responds eagerly, as something big and slick slides down his stomach and between his legs. Shiro rocks his hips against the warm mess of a tentacle, and their kiss breaks while they both groan.

The slick thing is long and dexterous. It easily rubs and wraps its way along his cock, past his balls, and back up between the cleft of his ass in one sensuous length. Any doubt about what it is evaporates as it rocks and Keith moans. By the gods, he’s huge. Whoever thought he’d find someone who made him the small one in the relationship, and Shiro can't help but laugh. Keith jumps, eyes fever bright and startled at the noise.

"I was, I was just thinking," Shiro pants, "Why grandma, what a big dick you have." Shiro laughs again, waiting for the play bap or loud groan at his lame and poorly timed humor. Keith is always up for being exasperated at him, but it doesn't come. Keith's not even really looking at him, staring almost past him, hazy and unfocused. "Keith?" Forgotten worry begins to bubble again. 

Keith sways for a second, "Shiro," It's half sigh, half whine, "I need more," Keith's face screws up in concentration, still not seeing him, and Shiro's suddenly very aware of how Keith's dick has slowed its grinding to start pressing, searching, between his cheeks.

Shiro's stomach drops. Keith is big, very big. Bigger than Shiro, bigger than two Shiro's. Being self lubricating doesn't fix that, "Keith, sweetheart," Shiro fights hard to keep the rising panic out of his voice, "You don't want that, baby. You want my thighs. They’re big enough for you."

Keith's supporting him in the air, but he's not holding him still. Shiro can move his knees together, and Keith doesn’t try to stop him. Nails digging into his pecs as new friction is applied and he’s given more to thrust into. Shiro reaches to stroke what he can of Keith’s dick. Relief, as Keith curls into Shiro and moans.

"See, isn't this better," Shiro encourages Keith to rock against him again. Keith pants open mouth in his ear, and Shiro relaxes. Letting him wrap some of his tentacles around Shiro's legs and take over the job of holding them together.

Keith fucks his thighs, and it feels good. The thick mess of Keith’s cock sliding slick against him. He's could cum like this. Will cum. Would have cum…something is spreading his cheeks. Thin somethings searching again, finding. "Keith, no, you want-" Shiro shouts, as Keith’s cock slows, lines up.

"Inside," Keith sighs, and Shiro screams.

There's nothing tentative about how Keith takes him. The blunt tip of his slimy tentacle forces its way past his rim with all the care of a spike through a board. Shiro's muscles seize up in pain, as it shoves its way in, then pushes deeper still. No pull back for another thrust, no pause, no respite.

Shiro tries to pull Keith's dick back from where it still threads between his thighs, but his hands slip and lose purchase on its slick surface. Keith notices though. The thick cords of muscle that make up his lower half encircle Shiro's wrists and haul them back to twist uncomfortably behind him.

"Keith, p-please slow, slower," Shiro begs. Just for a second, a moment to adjust, to relax his muscles. He can take, he has taken so many of his own fingers without pain. If he can just have a second to breathe, maybe, maybe he can take this too.

Keith doesn’t hear him, doesn’t seem to hear anything, "Warm...good...good..warm," Keith mumbles against his jaw, as he splits Shiro open. Stabbing pain so deep now, it feels like Keith's dick is trying to crawl into his stomach. His rim screams and burns and the bright sharp pain that means something worse. Keith's dick thicken the farther along it Shiro slides, and he fears, knows, too much more and he'll never close up again once Keith is through with him.

Maybe Keith notices the taste of tears as he mouths along Shiro's jaw or maybe he's merely reached the depth he desires, but the relentless onslaught of more finally slows to a stop within him. Not that he's done with Shiro, no far from that.

He almost expects for Keith to pull all of his great length out and thrust in anew, battering Shiro's insides until there is nothing left to resist, but that's not how Keith's people fuck. Not how Keith fucks at least.

Keith moves inside him with an undulating roll. Prehensile dick twisting and squirming from base to tip. His abused rim rides barely two thumbs width of Keith's dick. Up and down, with each wave. It's almost worse than thrusts would have been. That would have hurt, but this, Shiro’s insides feel like they’re stretched so tight over Keith, like the wrapping of a sausage. With each contortion within him, it feels like he might split. Would he even feel it? Everything from his rim to his stomach aches and burns and churns sickeningly. How could he tell one new pain against the others?

Keith sits up, palm spread across his pecs, as his eyes squeeze shut and jaw grits down. Everything wrapped around Shiro tightens, then stills, a second before a gout of liquid is being released inside him. It pours and pours. Filling him painfully deep, if there was any left to give. Maybe this will be what finally splits him. Not the treetrunk cock of his delirious friend but the orgasm. Won't Keith be sad to come back to himself, only to find Shiro burst like an overripe peach. Laughter bubbles hysterical from his throat.

Shiro can feel the waves of liquid traveling down Keith's cock. The slight expansion of its walls to make room inside Shiro and him before it dumps more into his broken body. He never thinks of what's driving them forward.

The bulge feels just like another wave at first. The slight growth that his nerves scream for him to stop, but he's helpless to so much as slow. It’s not like the others, though, it keeps growing, thickening. Too much. He's stretched too far. His rim wrapped around more than two cocks worth of unforgiving flesh, and he can give no further.

The bulge stops, it hurts, jamming him open to his extreme limits, but the pressure does not abate. It can't move further in but it's still trying.

Shiro's blubbering now, begging Keith to stop, crying it hurts. There's no thought to his words. Just panic as the pressure builds and builds, until with tearing agony his body gives. Shiro screams and doesn't stop.

The bulge’s journey deeper is an afterthought, it tears what does not give in awful encores of the first, but he only has one voice to shriek his pain and only so much air in his lungs to do it with.

By the time something too big is released into the liquid that's already been left in his body, there is another bulge at his rim and black spots in his eyes.

This one has less to tear as it moves. Flesh parting for its passage along already broken seams, but Shiro can't breathe through the pain. Can barely breathe at all. No matter how fast he pulls air into his lungs its not enough. Maybe it has crushed his lungs and he's suffocating. His vision is darkening but the pain doesn't dull.

He feels the third bulge enter. He doesn’t even know if he’s screaming anymore. Pain and too much. Before he can find out what more of his body will give way, the darkness finally, blessedly, claws him away.

-

Shiro's consciousness drifts in and out. The veil parting a moment to show he still hurts and then drags him back under. He doesn't fight it. Lets the darkness protects him, until it can’t anymore.

Shiro wakes to aches and pains. His skin feels too tight, but the agony from before is gone. He's somewhere between too hot and too cold. Chill air pricking at his sticky wet skin, while a furnace is curled around him. Shiro heart catches in his throat. Keith.

There is tickling slow breaths against his collarbone. Asleep then. Maybe if Shiro is slow, he can get away. Find a medicine women, a wizard, someone who can help. 

He means to get up carefully, quietly, but as his stomach muscles contract to sit up, pain ricochets through him. Shiro chokes down a cry. No, no, no. Not gone or better or a nightmare. The body beside him, surrounding him, stirs, but Shiro has to see. He lifts his head and gags. His stomach is distended. Not filled like a pregnant woman or fat with good food. He's swollen and unevenly lumped where Keith's left something inside him.

Human bodies aren't meant to do that. His isn't meant to do that. It can't be survivable to mess him up inside like this. The sob crawls out unbidden. He lets his head fall back and doesn't try to stop the tears. 

He's going to die.

"Shhiro, shhiro," Keith's voice slurs sleepily, "Shush, sh, sh, sh," A hand pets clumsily at his face, and he realizes he could fight it. His wrists are no longer twisted behind him, free to claw away the touch, if he could stand the pain of jostling his swollen stomach, but what's the point, when the death blow has already been dealt?

"Keith," His voice is cracked and raw, "I don't want to die," It's not something he'd confess to an enemy or even a friend, but the half lidded eyes looking into his own lack a spark of understanding. Wherever Keith has left his senses, they haven't come back to him yet. It's as safe as confessing to the open air.

There is a thing between his legs, still inside him, probably never left, and at his words it rocks gently. He can't tell if it hurts less or more than the first time. "Sh, sh, sh," Keith whispers petting him still. He lets himself pretend they aren’t related.

The flood of liquid that pours into him comes without bulges. Though it stings where it gushes out around his raw ruined hole. His consciousness seems to go with it. Spilling out into darkness, yet he thinks maybe he hears "be okay," before all is consumed.

-

Consciousness is a mist between his fingers. Impossible to grasp. He flits between waking and lucid dreams. Barely able to tell the difference between them, if at all. The thing is always between his legs, sometimes moving, sometimes not. How much it hurts depends upon the dream.

He's waking when his dry throat is met with his cool water pressed to his lips.

He chooses to believe he's dreaming when his grumbling stomach is met with the thing from down there being pushed down his throat, covered in blood and slime and worse before releasing its foul torrent to fill him. He doesn’t hunger, and he need not know how.

-

He’s staring at the maggot long before his brain fully realizes he's awake. He looks at the maggot so he does not have to see the deer. He think about how long it takes the maggots to grow, so he doesn't have to think about the dead eyes watching him.

Something is moving inside him. Just like the deer. He thought it was the thing between his legs, but that's still now, yet something twists on. It doesn't hurt. Not like it did at first.

Nothing hurts like it did. He doesn't think that's a good thing. When the body stops reporting the damage, it means its beyond the point of repair.

His stomach is more evenly swollen. The liquid Keith pumps into him has made it bulge everywhere, not just where the things he left are. Maybe that's why there is always something between his legs. Keep the liquid from gushing out to the cold stone below them. Would it take what’s left of his organs with it, if it did?

Fingers probe his stomach, and Shiro only grimaces slightly. It agitates the things inside him. Makes them writhe uncomfortably. Keith's sitting up, staring down in concentration as he pokes at Shiro's bulging belly.

He's been quieter the last few times Shiro's woken. More intelligence in his eyes, but he hasn't stopped yet. Shiro doesn't want to think about it. He'd rather stare at the maggots and the deer.

The thing between his leg moves, pushes deeper than it has in a while. It's uncomfortable pressure as it displaces the liquid inside him. More so as the things inside react. They don't like it in their space.

Something sharp tugs at his insides, and Shiro cries out more in surprise than pain. He didn't know he could still feel anything. Keith jumps and withdraws his appendage to a shallower depth.

Shiro doesn’t think he makes another sound, but he must, "Shhh," Fingers card through his sweat matted hair, "Sleep Shiro," Keith pulls him into a loose embrace. The world begins to slip with the bare comfort, and he wonders if the dying always find it so easy to drift away with just a suggestion, "It will all be over soon," Keith whispers.

-

He wakes to pain. It's the first day again. Something too big is moving inside him, too many strong corded tentacles holding him down, but he's not the one rambling in panic, "It's going to be okay, it's going to be okay, you're going to be okay," Keith's hovering beside him. Hands fluttering uselessly between Shiro's stomach and thighs. "Please be okay," Keith babbles. Shiro doesn't understand. He's cries out as something wrenches in his gut. The things inside him, there doing something, tearing him. How is there anything left to tear?

His thighs are wet. There is nothing between his legs and the liquid is gushing out. The things inside are hurting him, moving around, and now he knows what's going on. The maggots have hatched and he's the carcass. He's crying, and laughing, and he's absolutely terrified.

"You're going to be okay, you're goi-" It's Keith's mantra above him and Shiro knows it's not true. He won’t be, he won’t live through this. Keith’s spreading his thighs wide, and it barely hurts as he shoves his hand into Shiro's gaping hole. Swallowing down his forearm without resistance.

It hurts as the things inside flail as Keith's hand nears it. Hurts more as its dragged rough and fast through through his intestines, fist wrapped around more breaching his hole too big and painful. Pain as he goes back for the next one, and again, as the last drags and fights all the way out. Clinging to him, unwilling to leave without take some of Shiro with it.

They’re out, they’re out, and Shiro can't stop crying, shaking. They’re not eating him from the inside, they’re not eating him, but it still hurts. Keith reaches for his face with messy hands, and he can see the one that was inside him. Pink with fluid and blood. Too much blood.

He hasn't escaped at all. The pain the fear and still. It's too much, "I don't want to die," Shiro's voice breaks over the words. He doesn’t know his hands are free until clawing at Keith’s shoulder, grabbing him, begging, “Please, I don’t want to die.”

Keith's eyes are wide with fear of his own, then something changes, something grim, "You won't," He holds Shiro’s hand with his own, “You won’t,” A tentacle slips around Shiro's throat, "Go to sleep Shiro," It tightens. Shiro can't breathe, "You're going to be okay-"

-

He wakes to the maggot and the deer, black balls of tentacles and teeth gorging on the rotting carcass. He wakes to Keith caressing his cheek and the thing between his legs stopping up the liquid inside him again. Most importantly he wakes to no pain.

He watches the grim feast and the walls and the trickling light from the holes up high. Then he rolls his head and watches the eyes that are more purple than black.

"Why am I calm," Shiro asks the searching eyes looking into his own. 

"You're high on egg fluid," Keith says quietly, "Keeps the host manageable....mostly." 

"Oh," Shiro says. He watches the monster again. They don't look like Keith, at least not his upper half.

"Why don't I hurt," He asks. 

Keith sighs, laying down to rest against his shoulder, "Life magic transfer, so the host doesn't die and gestation only takes three days." 

"Is that why.." Gesturing to the thing inside him would be too much effort, but Keith understands.

"Another hour to heal and I'll pull out," Keith's voice drifts quieter.

Keith's breathing is evening out. If he's not asleep he will be soon. T he things seem happy with their corpse, with no intent to come near them any time soon. No reason not to follow him. Shiro closes his eyes and lets the dreams sweep him away.

**Author's Note:**

> If you notice a bit of different style in this fic, it's because this was originally a surprisingly long twitter thread, that I cleaned up for posting here. If you'd like to see any of the other I made, I am @ILLocust.
> 
> Also, if you're curious about anything about either the world this fic is set in, or why Keith was doing certain things, please ask. I spent a lot of time daydreaming about this before writing it, so I may have overthought background details that wouldn't make it into the fic proper.


End file.
